


i know the world's a broken bone

by honeyflair



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, basically this is a what if they were in love the Whole Time au, i mean thats basically canon but i digress, read with caution, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyflair/pseuds/honeyflair
Summary: Charlotte falls, and Sasha falls with her."Charlotte and Sasha were, at their core, hotel rooms and wrestling rings. And Sasha found that she was okay with that."
Relationships: Sasha Banks/Charlotte
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	i know the world's a broken bone

**Author's Note:**

> this is a dumpster fire literally. but i just wanted to write charlotte and sasha Kissing and being in love and just being gay as hell. i think i've succeeded.

Walking to the ring in her gear is as easy as breathing, at this point. Sasha waits for her there, blue hair standing out spectacularly in the glaring white of the squared circle. Charlotte feels her heart pounding in her chest and her legs shake as she tries to put on the confident face she’s grown so accustomed to after years of being the Queen.

Barely four months ago, Charlotte Flair and Sasha Banks were closer than they had ever been. Years of on and off communication and tentative friendship blossomed at Survivor Series 2018.

Charlotte stormed backstage after her beat down on Rousey and her blood was boiling and she was so  _ angry _ and— her train of thought stopped mid sentence when she threw open the door of the restroom and her fingers paused in their rapid detangling of her hair. Sasha stood at the sink, washing her hands dutifully and humming lightly under her breath. Charlotte’s rage and frustration ceased for just a moment. 

Charlotte knew Sasha could see her, but the purple haired woman said nothing; just turned off the tap and examined herself in the mirror carefully, her fresh face without a flaw on its surface. Charlotte paused at the sink next to Sasha and flipped the tap on with more force than necessary. she diligently took out the braids crowning her hair and splashed water in her face to hopefully calm herself down. The whole time Sasha stood there, eyes flickering to Charlotte’s own in the mirror from time to time, but otherwise checking herself out in the mirror or playing on her phone. Charlotte didn’t know why she stayed. Eventually Charlotte’s breathing calmed and the red in her face died down. But her rage was still there; her anger and hurt and loneliness and sadness came to a head in the form of beating down Ronda Rousey with a kendo stick. Not her finest moment, she will admit, but her anger got the best of her. Like 2016 all over again.

Charlotte went to leave, ignoring Sasha’s weird behavior, when a hand shot out to grip her wrist lightly in its grasp. Charlotte paused, not pulling her arm away or asking what the other girl was doing, just waited. Sasha eventually let go, but spun Charlotte around to face her gently, concern storming heavily in her dark eyes.

“What happened out there?” Sasha asked in a low tone. Charlotte didn’t bother to feign confusion. She rolled her eyes and wrenched her arm out of the purple haired woman’s grasp.

“Nothing happened. Business as usual, Sash.” Charlotte played nonchalant, knew her eyes would give her away so she looked down at Sasha’s shoes like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Cut the bullshit, Char. You snapped. Admit it.” Charlotte knew Sasha wouldn’t buy any bullshit story she came up with, so she shrugged the girl off and used her long legs to her advantage to get to the exit in record time. Sasha couldn’t catch up with her in time, and Charlotte heard her sigh in resignation at her stubbornness. 

The blonde’s anger came and went in waves as she stormed down the busy hallway. The showers called to her and she needed to let off some steam with some cold water. She needed to calm down before she did something she regretted; did another thing she regretted. Two violent outbursts in one night-- Charlotte didn’t know if her career could survive it.

She was right, the freezing temperature of the pressurized water hitting her back like tiny needles helped to calm her down. She tried not to think about Rousey, and what she did tonight. Her heart pounded like thunder in her chest. Charlotte thought she was better; thought she would never turn into the person she became in 2016 again, but she failed. She’d like to blame it all on Becky--god, the blonde could barely think her name--but she knew the red head was only a part of the problem. Since she vowed to be good again almost two years ago, she shoved her rage and irritation and hate deep inside herself, never to show their ugly face again. Tonight changed that. Tonight changed everything, and she had nobody to blame but herself.

The humiliation of losing again, to Rousey of all people, brought her suppressed feelings to the surface when the brunette rolled out of the figure eight once again halfway through the match; Charlotte was seeing red, Charlotte couldn’t control herself. She rolled out of the ring, her vision blurred, and then Rousey was on the ground, a kendo stick clutched tightly in Charlotte’s hands. Then she raised it again and brought it down with a crack, then again, then again, then again, then-- the stick broke. Ronda didn’t have a chance. Charlotte winced at memory of the chair, wrapped around Rousey’s neck, then her own boot stomping on the leg with force. The referees couldn’t stop her, she didn’t think anybody could at that point.

Charlotte hit the tiled wall of the shower, then turned the tap off, standing silently for a moment in the empty stall, water dripping behind her, the soundtrack of her life. She wrapped a towel around herself, then walked confidently to the lockers, in case anybody saw her. A Queen can’t be seen without her crown. The locker room was empty, thankfully, and she was halfway through pulling on her shorts when the door opened with a bang. Charlotte didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. Sure enough, there was a clearing of somebody’s throat, and Sasha stepped in front of her with purpose. Charlotte pulled her shorts up all the way, then turned away from the other girl, dropping the towel covering her torso with the movement. She clipped her bra on easily, then grabbed a random shirt from her duffel bag. 

A light touch on her back startled her and she jumped, dropping the shirt in her hand back onto the bench.

Sasha traced the line of scarring that marred her back with her pointer finger. “I’ve never seen this before,” her former rival said, then continued to run her finger along the raised flesh. Charlotte chuckled, then turned to face Sasha, the other womans hand falling away. Charlotte almost didn’t want it to go away; she couldn’t remember the last time she was touched outside of the ring; outside of hurt and violence. 

“They cover it when i go out,” Charlotte said in almost a whisper. Sasha nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer, then stepped back an inch, giving Charlotte her space. 

“Talk to me,” Sasha said, bending down some to make Charlotte lift her gaze from the floor to her concerned eyes. Charlotte wanted to run again. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a heart to heart with someone. She had no friends—the last person she was close with betrayed her, left her—so she never really talked about her feelings with anybody, lately. Charlotte didn’t know how she felt about talking about her  _ feelings  _ with Sasha Banks—her former best friend turned rival.

The purple haired womans sincerity couldn’t be doubted, surely, but being vulnerable with somebody again, trusting someone with her thoughts and feelings, felt like a death sentence waiting to happen. You can’t ever trust somebody in this business, They’ll always turn their back on you when it’s convenient.But, it was sasha—former tag team partner all the way back in NXT. The woman she would laugh with in hotels and ride with when nobody else wanted anything to do with them. This was sasha—the woman she fought against for an entire year: the brave superhero to her antagonistic villain. Her equal, in every sense of the word. Sasha was good, Charlotte knew that. Charlotte could trust her, just for tonight.

Charlotte held out her hand, then smiled slightly when Sasha took it without hesitation. “Come with me to my hotel. We’ll talk there.” Sasha followed, no words spoken between them the entire way.

—

Charlotte watched Sasha intently as the girl studied her barren hotel room. They sat awkwardly on the bed, both perched on either corner at the end. Charlotte cringed internally at the energy permeating throughout the room. She hated this. it was like they were strangers; which they most undoubtedly were not. About as far from strangers as you could be, in Charlotte’s book.

But Charlotte couldn’t ever forget that entire year fighting with Sasha . That point in time where she was so  _ angry _ —god, so angry. She didn’t know how she was ever so angry and didn’t explode into a million pieces in front of the world every Monday night. Charlotte couldn’t forget the actual hatred she felt for Sasha; that short period of time where she couldn’t look at herself in the mirror and the tears behind her eyes were a constant ache, a new normal. She betrayed her best friend and went on a warpath, tearing down everyone in her way. The roles were reversed now. Now, she just wanted to put her broken friendship with B- with  _ her  _ back together and she just wanted to fall into that easy togetherness that was always there for them. She knew that would never happen again.

Sasha sat still, and watched Charlotte softly. She remembered, too, of course. Remembered the bruises and scarring and emotional toll on her watching Charlotte sink lower everyday and knowing she had to put the blonde in her place. Sasha was so proud of her, watching from whatever place she could as Charlotte started to become that girl Sasha knew back in NXT when she was moved to Smackdown in the draft. The Welcoming Committee brought out the good in her, somehow, and her smile came easier and looked more genuine with every passing show on the blue brand. Sasha was so proud.

Sasha looked at her now, and knew the Evil Queen had reared her ugly head back in the forefront of Charlotte’s mind. Gone was the fiercely loyal, easy smiling woman that was there just a month before. Sasha saw the flash of menace every time Charlotte’s eyes caught in the light. Sasha sighed. 

She wouldn’t fix Charlotte again— _ couldn’t _ fix Charlotte again. But she could listen to her, talk to her, let her knows she’s not alone. But she wouldn’t fix her, because Sasha was past that. She was content, her career finally at the place she always wanted it to be—on top. Charlotte had no place on top with her, in her mind. The only way for Charlotte was down, and Sasha wouldn’t go down with her. But she could at least do this.

“I just—“Charlotte started abruptly. “This is gonna be all over the place and won’t make sense but-but can you just listen for me? Just for a little bit. I don’t expect you to give me life changing advice or anything like that, I just need to say this.” Sasha nodded quickly, conveying all her care and understanding to charlotte in one quick glance.

“I-I feel so powerless all the time now. I’m losing every match, the fans hate me, Becky hates me, the entire roster hates me. I’m all alone and being the good guy, the person above it all, was  _ killing  _ me. I hated being that when nobody here ever deserved me at that point. I  _ tried _ , Sasha , I tried so hard to be good. To not let the anger and resentment throw me back to this place but I failed. Okay? I failed. A-And now.. i’m still alone, no doubt about that, but at least I’m strong. At least I can fight back—I can take what’s given to me and give it back tenfold. Like this, I can be invulnerable, I can let everybody know that I don’t care that they don’t like me. Nobody can walk all over me now. I can’t regret this—I  _ won’t  _ regret this. I need to be this version of me right now; I don’t want to ever feel the way i felt these last few months again. I won’t let myself be put through that again. This is who I am, at my core. Do you get why I did it, Sash? Please don’t misunderstand me.'' Charlotte's speech was filled with passion and the underlying disgust for her past, good, self made chills run down Sasha’s spine. The old Charlotte was gone, Sasha knew that, the knowledge settled deep in her bones.

“I understand, Char.” The nickname rolled off her tongue easily, though she hadn’t called the blonde woman that in  _ years _ —since NXT. Since their past innocence and before new scars. “I understand.” She reached out slowly, her small hand covering Charlotte’s larger one. They didn’t do this, back in the day. They cuddled in the typical straight best friend way and held hands in public because they were close, nothing more about it. But, they didn’t do this-- this soft, caring gesture of affection with no pretense behind it. Charlotte’s fingers twitched like she was ready to pull away at any sudden movement. Sasha squeezed her hand and didn’t look her way.

“Thank you…” Charlotte sounded distant, closed off. It came suddenly and left Sasha with a bad case of whiplash. She knew what she was doing. She spilled her guts out to Sasha and now she was trying to pick up the pieces without getting burned. Sasha squeezed her hand tighter, enough to hurt, and Charlotte finally met her eyes, blue eyes glinting in the pale light. 

“I’m not gonna tell anybody, Char. I won’t betray you,” Sasha said with as much sincerity as she could muster. Charlotte flinched at her words like she’d been hit. Becky probably said the same things to her once, and look how that turned out. Sasha didn’t think Charlotte would believe her if she ripped her own heart out and scrawled her loyalty on it with bleeding hands. Charlotte looked torn between wanting to trust her and about five seconds away from throwing her out of her room. Sasha made the choice for her, and stood on steady legs. Charlotte’s miserable expression wasn’t lost on Sasha. She hugged her quick and painless, and then told the blonde to call her, please, if she ever needed her. Or wanted her. Charlotte nodded and she left.

—

They didn’t see each other again until the Royal Rumble. TLC came and went with Sasha opting out of the end of year pay-per-view. Charlotte had a title opportunity then lost it to Asuka, and her rampage worsened as the new year rolled around. Smackdown became her feeding ground, and she stalked all the talent—her prey, there for the taking. Charlotte and Sasha texted sparingly, and only about trivial things: “did u get a concussion today?” for example. Sasha’s focus left Charlotte months ago, if she was being honest, and the title was the only thing on her mind. Her and Ronda Rousey at the Rumble. She could taste victory.

Charlotte was optimistic as well, for her match. 29 other women wouldn’t stand in her way to the main event at Wrestlemania. She was above them all, they had no chance against her. She was the Queen. And who could possibly be above the Queen? 

Gorilla was packed, as usual for a big pay-per-view. Sasha was about to go on, and sweat already started perspiring on her skin in a light sheen. The crowd buzzing with anticipation and nerves calmed her down just the slightest. They were always behind her, she knew that. Out of the corner of her eye, as she laced her boots in record time, Sasha saw Charlotte sit ungracefully in one of the chairs surrounding the room. She wasn’t supposed to go on for at least another hour, but Sasha said nothing, just continued to regard the blonde wearily. Her ring gear sparkled and shined and caught the light in so many ways it was hard not to look at her. Her hair was braided and her make up immaculate, her strong arms flexing slightly with every clench of her fists as she stretched them out. Sasha realized belatedly that she was most definitely staring too long at the blonde, and shook herself out of it quickly as her eyes traveled downward towards Charlotte’s smooth, toned midsection. Sasha suppressed a shiver, and forced the lump in her throat down with much effort.

The purple haired woman turned completely to stare at the curtain separating her from the ring and the buzzing crowd. There was a thrill running through her, and her heart beat in anticipation with the crowds enthusiastic chants. It pounded almost painfully in her chest, and it was  _ exhilarating _ , like it was every single time. A backstage worker clapped her on the shoulder and told her she was on in about two minutes. She thanked him quietly and stretched, quick and painless. A roll of her neck and a few quick jumps made her feel more prepared, and as a countdown started in gorilla prompted by Hunter, her breath came fast and her legs shook with the need to just get out there and finish Ronda Rousey for good. 

Thirty seconds before she was on to go out, Charlotte stood finally with a light groan. Sasha pretended not to notice she was there at all. That was a moot point, of course, as Charlotte stood in front of her, dark eyes piercing her heavily. There was a tension there, for a second, but Charlotte easily averted them away from it with a little, genuine smile and a hand firmly clasped on Sasha’s shoulder, mimicking the worker from earlier. 

“Good luck,” the blonde said, and Sasha was finding it hard to keep her eyes away from Charlotte’s mouth. “And happy birthday.” Sasha’s shocked expression didn’t deter her, and her arm came around the purple haired woman easily before letting her go with a gentleness so unlike her. The bad her, at least. But then Charlotte flashed her teeth in an imitation of a smile, and she strolled aimlessly down the hallway as Sasha’s music hit blaringly. The crowd roared, and Sasha’s breath left her in a rush as the curtain was pulled back. She stood confidently on the ramp, then walked calmly down to the ring with swagger oozing out of every step. Rousey had her work cut out for her.

\--

Three am and the sun was long gone. The window looking over the city did nothing for light and she sat frozen in her hotel room in complete darkness. Her hair hung heavy in her face while her fingers clutched at it in furious fists. Her title opportunity failed and her head swam with so many emotions she didn’t know which one to pick. One of the biggest pay-per-views of the year and she lost humiliatingly in front of millions. Not only did she lose, but she  _ tapped. _ Sasha clenched her jaw to the point of bordering on painful at the thought. 

She tried to put on a face for the girls who came to her room to celebrate her birthday with her, and she  _ did  _ have fun, don’t get her wrong. But the conversation would lull or too many people would leave the living room at once, and her thoughts would stray to her loss, and childishly, tears would prick at her eyes. Bayley and Naomi were the last to leave, and Sasha felt so infinitely grateful to them for staying so late with her even though she could see the exhaustion pulling at them. They always knew how to cheer her up, even now, and they said their goodbyes with too many hugs and kisses on cheeks and foreheads and Sasha loves them. So much.

Then she was alone, like she was alone at the kitchen table sat with her head in her hands. Then knocks on her door sounded in her ears in quick succession. Then Charlotte was standing in her room, a singular cupcake in a plastic tin occupying her right hand. Sasha looked at the blonde in awe.

“It’s not my birthday anymore,” the purple haired woman said, then took the cupcake out of Charlotte’s loose hold. The blonde shook her head in exasperation, but let her take it with no hesitance.

“I know,” she said, simply. “I didn’t get to the hotel until like, an hour ago.” Sasha hummed at that, then sat back down at the small table and opened the container without preamble. Charlotte sat across from her, watching her warily. 

Conversation was scarce as Sasha ate her cupcake, and Charlotte honest to god giggled when Sasha somehow got frosting on her nose. It felt like old times, almost. Sasha knew, without a doubt, that the Evil Queen persona was a front, a defense mechanism, but that didn’t make her any less wary of the blonde. She’s seen firsthand what Charlotte’s defense looks like, it’s not pretty. Sasha knew Charlotte wasn’t a bad person; Sasha knew Charlotte was a scared, lonely person who used anger to cope with being alone. Sasha knew Charlotte was self-destructing and there was nothing anybody could do about it. 

But, there were moments, of course. Charlotte’s grin and her raspy voice that always seemed to make Sasha melt. Her caring words and her deliberateness to go out of her way to do something nice for Sasha’s birthday because she knew the other woman was upset. Charlotte could be good, Sasha had no doubt whatsoever.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde’s voice cut through the air sharply, and Sasha paused with her finger covered in frosting halfway to her mouth. The blonde didn’t seem to be deterred. “About your match, you know…” Sasha wondered blearily when they started being so awkward around each other. Even when they were feuding, it was always yelling and biting comments and glares that told a thousand words. Never awkward, though. Sasha never imagined she could ever feel uncomfortable around the blonde. Their relationship changed so drastically over the years, Sasha concluded, and they didn’t know how to act around the other. 

Sasha shook her head at Charlotte’s apology. “I should be saying sorry to you,” she said cheekily, and her smile brightened considerably at Charlotte’s genuine laughter ringing through the room. “I can’t believe she did that.  _ Bitch.”  _ The blonde laughed harder at that, and Sasha didn’t think about Ronda for the rest of the night, at least. 

—

Vodka sung through her veins in cupfuls. The bass pounded through her blood up into her heart and all her senses were nothing but the deep thrum travelling through her system. She honestly didn’t know how she could stand at that moment, let alone dance like her life depended on it with Bayley in front of her. 

Elimination Chamber came, then went, and Sasha was drunk on power and success and the adrenaline of the win. And alcohol. Lots of it. It was just supposed to be her and Bayley, but Charlotte had flown in from wherever she was to watch the show live, and Sasha invited her before she could stop herself. Said blonde was sitting in one of the booths, drinking a neon pink drink and watching Sasha and Bayley dance the night away with hooded eyes. Sasha was so, so, so drunk and so were her two counterparts. She was gonna regret this in the morning. 

The music slowed, and Bayley suddenly found a very attractive girl dancing with her, and Sasha took that as her cue to exit the dance floor. She kept her eyes on her feet, making a feeble attempt at walking even remotely straight to the occupied booth, and without stumbling, at that. She failed, unsurprisingly, and Charlotte almost choking on her drink with laughter was as unsurprising as that. 

Leather squeaked underneath her as she flopped onto the empty space directly by Charlotte. The blonde giggled, then stroked her hair gently, then continued to sip on her obnoxious drink that hurt Sasha just looking at it. 

“Dance with me,” Sasha found herself saying before her brain could catch up with her fully. The blonde stirred slightly, and Sasha’s head fell on her shoulder easily as if she was made to be there. She never wanted to move from this spot, actually, she decided indefinitely. The blonde grumbled at her request, and Sasha honest to god almost fell asleep on her broad left shoulder.

“Cant dance,” the taller woman mumbled non committedly. Sasha didn’t try to fight her, and instead cuddled into her further, a sleepy sigh escaping her parted lips. 

They must have stayed like that for at least a couple minutes, at the least, because Bayley came barrelling over, and by the time Sasha keyed back into real life the song playing had changed. Bayley looked no better off than her in terms of drunkenness, but she was still standing, and looking slightly energetic, so she had Sasha beat by a mile. She somehow managed to open her eyes fully to say goodbye to her best friend, who had decided to go home with the blonde she was dancing with. Sasha saluted her, told her she loves her, then promptly let her head fall back on Charlotte’s shoulder when she left.

“We should prob’ly go,” Charlotte said somewhere near the top of her head, and Sasha tried to voice her agreement, but it came out more like a groan than anything. Somehow, though, Charlotte stood, something Sasha didn’t think she could do now that she had sat down. 

“Come on, ‘ll call an uber,” Charlotte said more steadily, trying very hard to seem like the less drunk one of the two. She didn’t have to try very hard, Sasha thought, as she tried to make her legs work and steady themselves under her weight, but failed spectacularly, almost knocking Charlotte down when her body just decided to fall without warning. The blonde caught her easily, though, a slight grunt leaving her lips as she adjusted Sasha to lean her full weight on her. 

“Sorry.” Charlotte didn’t hear her, or didn’t bother to answer, and propped Sasha up against her more firmly to fish her phone out of the back pocket of her black jeans. Sasha didn’t pay attention after that, just rested her head on Charlotte’s chest, feeling her even breathing and listening to the steady beat of her heart. Sasha could stay like this forever, if Charlotte would let her. All too soon, Charlotte tells her they have to go outside, their car is there, and Sasha wanted to cry, all of a sudden, and she didn’t know why. Maybe it was how drunk she was, and how she could barely move and the world was spinning around her. Maybe it was Charlotte, and Sasha stopped herself at that thought.

In the end, Charlotte had to carry Sasha to the uber, and then again when they finally arrived to their hotel. Charlotte checked them in, Sasha’s ears perking up at the mention of one room, one bed. Sasha figured it was so Charlotte could keep an eye on her. Charlotte was sorely mistaken if she thought they would just go to sleep separately; she was gonna make the blonde cuddle with her all night long, at least. Drunk Sasha was clingy: sue her.

The elevator ride was long, to Sasha, and the stumble to their shared hotel room felt longer, but finally Charlotte— _ Charlotte  _ was here, she remembered startlingly clear—unlocked their door, and she pushed it open with no preamble. The lights followed, and Sasha hissed pathetically at the offending brightness. Her friend noticed this, and led Sasha quietly to the bed, instructing her to get dressed and go to sleep; she had a long day tomorrow. People to see, championships to defend. Sasha could kiss her, could love her, if Charlotte would let her. 

Getting dressed wasn’t so easy a task, and she only managed to take of her shirt and pants before deciding, fuck it, she was only sleeping anyways. The light stayed on for a while, and Sasha had to wonder what Charlotte was doing, what she was thinking. This felt pivotal, somehow, alone in a hotel room with Charlotte Flair, her— her  _ something _ . Sasha’s fingers curled around her hair, and she reached out slowly to the empty space where Charlotte should be. 

“Char?” she called, her anxiety getting the best of her when more time passed and Charlotte was nowhere to be seen. 

“Yeah?” the blonde shouted from the bathroom, and Sasha’s ears suddenly tuned into the sound of the shower running. Oh. 

“Nothing.” She barely muttered it, and Charlotte surely couldn’t hear her, but there were no more inquiries from the blonde, and Sasha laid her head back down on the pillow contentedly. 

Minutes passed, or hours, Sasha didn’t know, but suddenly the bathroom door opened and there was Charlotte. Charlotte in shorts and a tight fitting tank top. Sasha’s breath stuttered heavily in her lungs, and she just managed to look away before Charlotte caught her. Charlotte walked quietly to the bed, and Sasha knew she thought she was asleep, that she needed to let her rest. Sasha felt a swell of affection blossom in her chest, and when Charlotte finally slipped under the white sheets, Sasha immediately scooted closer to her. Charlotte only fidgeted for a second, but when Sasha turned over so her back was to the blonde’s front, Charlotte scooted closer and wrapped herself around the smaller woman. They both sighed, their contact a relief, a respite for lonely days. Sasha found herself wanting this after—when they’re not drunk, and Charlotte possibly using her cause she has no one else. The thought made her sick, so, so, sick, and she prayed it wasn’t true. Sasha prayed that Charlotte was here for her, not to fill a void left by constant abandonment. 

If it was—an arrangement to be less lonely, and Sasha was there, always there—Sasha realized sleepily, before she drifted away, she would let it happen, even when she swore just months before that she wouldn’t fix Charlotte again. The things you do, or something like that.

—

The culmination. Sasha knew--she hoped--this would happen, maybe from the beginning. There’s always been something. Charlotte and Sasha--it just fits, somehow. Fastlane, and then the road to Wrestlemania. Sasha couldn’t believe how fast it crept up on her. Beating Nia and Tamina wasn’t easy, but Sasha knew they could do it, her and Bayley--her wrestling soulmate. Potential bruises and scratch marks littered her tired body on the way up the ramp, limping slightly. Thank god for the immediate treatment provided for her as soon as she found her way behind the curtain in gorilla. 

Charlotte was there--waiting for her--ring gear already on and face done up with her signature makeup look. Sasha thought she looked  _ stunning _ , and she stopped herself from blatantly checking the blonde out, like she tended to do. Charlotte didn’t hesitate before stepping forward and embracing her in a tight hug. Sasha’s arms came around her slim frame, and closed her eyes as she rested her chin on the blonde’s shoulder. Charlotte told her how proud of her she was, and Sasha’s smile widened considerably at her raspy voice--talking for Sasha, and only Sasha. Sasha kissed her cheek before separating to go shower before Charlotte’s match later that night. 

She watched, after, as Ronda Rousey--god, she hates that woman--made the match end by disqualification by attacking Becky. Becky was going into the main event of Wrestlemania, and Charlotte’s pissed off face told the story. Sasha would really love to get her hands on Rousey again. Not as much as Charlotte did, though, Sasha knew. 

Sasha didn’t have to invite her to her hotel room, after the fact. It had become sort of a routine for them--if they’re both in the same place at the same time, they share a hotel room; It’s their  _ thing.  _ Charlotte simply followed her to the cars parked in the garage provided by the company, and slid into the passenger seat of whatever one Sasha chose. Sasha didn’t stop her, of course, and they drove in silence to the hotel where they would be staying, apart from the low rumble of the radio playing softly in the background. Sasha’s fingers wouldn’t stop tapping on the center console in anxious anticipation; of what? She didn’t know. Her fingers tap, tap, tapped, until Charlotte rolled her eyes and covered her hand with her much larger one, her long fingers wrapping around her hand with ease. Sasha swallowed with difficulty, and continued driving to their destination without saying a word, or moving her hand, god forbid.

Sasha got them a room for the night—“one bed,” she specified to the tired woman behind the counter—and Charlotte followed her without fuss to their room. Charlotte’s eyes didn’t stray from her once as she unlocked the door with trembling hands, which Charlotte obviously noticed. This was different than those other times in those other hotels, somehow, this was purposeful. This was Sasha giving her a choice. One bed—Charlotte had to choose between the bed, or leaving to get a room herself. Sasha was fairly confident there was never even a choice at all, in Charlotte’s mind. 

The door swung open with no preamble, and Sasha stepped through the doorway with Charlotte following close behind. ‘So, that’s a ‘no’ on leaving,” Sasha thought to herself with a little smirk. 

“Is it alright if I shower?” Charlotte asked in a soft voice, like the slightest noise will ruin whatever is here between them. 

Sasha shot her a look. “Duh.” 

Charlotte laughed, then, and went into the bathroom. The door was left cracked, barely an inch between the door and the wall. Sasha didn’t know where she was supposed to look—didn’t know what to do. The light was turned on suddenly, and Sasha could barely see the shadow of Charlotte’s body on the floor, illuminated by the dim light. Clothes being thrown on the tiled floor could be heard in the silence, the hum of the ceiling fan the only other noise heard in close proximity. Sasha heard the shower turn on, and decided to change into her sleeping clothes—an oversized shirt and shorts that came mid-thigh. The bed felt as inviting as anything, and Sasha laid on the white sheets with a contented, blissful sigh. She could fall asleep, right now, the blonde in her bathroom be damned. Her day was long enough, in all honesty.

The shower shut off and her thoughts of sleeping went with it. Sasha suddenly felt the hot sting of anxiety running through her midsection, and carefully rested her whole body completely on the bed—not pretending to sleep, this time. Charlotte entered the room with a towel wrapped around her heavily muscled body. She headed immediately toward her suitcase, where she dropped her towel—she was wearing a black bra and matching underwear with it. A tank top and shorts were thrown on carelessly, just like the last time they did this. Sasha’s chest squeezed painfully at the anxiety, the anticipation, rushing through her. Sasha wanted to reach out and tug Charlotte onto the bed  _ now.  _ Nobody ever claimed Sasha Banks was patient. 

Charlotte’s blonde hair was loose, tumbling down her back in damp waves—Sasha resisted the urge to tug at it, to bring her down to the bed. The blonde turned around suddenly, and Sasha stayed where she was, letting the blonde come to her—letting her set the pace; Sasha still wasn’t sure for what, though, but had a pretty good idea what her racing mind was coming up with in flashes of how the night could go. Her mouth went dry at the thoughts and she cleared her throat when Charlotte finally started to settle into the king sized bed.

The lamp next to Sasha was turned off with the twist of her fingers, and she quietly turned over to face the blonde in her bed. Sasha realizes it all the time, at random, but, Charlotte really is  _ beautiful _ . Breathtakingly so. Blonde, tall, fit; all adjectives that would describe the perfect woman to Sasha, and she was right there in front of her. 

“Hi,” Charlotte said just above a whisper. Sasha didn’t say a word, and instead leaned in with no preamble. Charlotte watched her the whole way, letting Sasha come to her. Sasha licked her lips, then bit them in anticipation. Charlotte reached out all of a sudden, and her thumb brushed over Sasha’s bottom lip gently and easily. Sasha held back a whimper. Charlotte always knew what Sasha wanted, somehow, without Sasha telling her. Maybe it’s because her face will give away whatever she’s feeling, no matter how she tries to hide it—Maybe it’s because Charlotte is so attuned to her every emotion, even after the years separated them. 

Charlotte’s thumb pushed past her parted lips and rested on her tongue for just a split second—a split second that had Sasha shaking, trembling.  _ God, does she know what she does to me? _ Does Charlotte know? The thumb previously placed on her tongue drifted back to her lips, and Sasha didn’t move an inch, didn’t make a sound. The world could end in nuclear explosion and Sasha wouldn’t move from this spot, with Charlotte so close to her she could just lean in and—

“Can I kiss you?” the blonde whispered in earnest. Her lips parted just slightly and Sasha took no time before she leaned in and connected their lips with a little gasp. Charlotte groaned throatily, and her fingers came up to rest in Sasha’s messy hair with reckless abandon. The kiss was slow, and deep, and the only sounds you could hear in the room were the wet sounds of kissing, and the quiet moans the two were making, seemingly without meaning to do so. 

Charlotte broke away with a gasp for air. Sasha’s heart stuttered in her chest and her fingers trembled just barely when she reached up to trace the lines of Charlotte’s face. Gorgeous. Charlotte looked, felt, incredible, in ways Sasha has a hard time explaining to herself, even now. Blonde hair mussed, hooded eyes that travelled obscenely all over Sasha’s body, kiss swollen lips that Sasha could barely stop herself from leaning in and taking again, and again. It was addicting, a fix that Sasha couldn’t possibly live without now that she knew what the blonde tasted like. Her own personal drug, there for the taking. They made eye contact, for only a moment, before Charlotte tilted her head to the side to access Sasha’s neck easily.

Soft kisses littered Sasha’s neck in barely there touches. Her hand came to rest on Charlotte’s lower back, applying pressure and rubbing circles. Charlotte made a sound, an almost mute sigh, and Sasha smirked at the affect she had on the other woman. The blonde became more bold in her attention to Sasha’s neck, and before long her soft kisses turned into tongue and teeth assaulting her sensitive skin. Sasha moaned at the feeling, and her hand squeezed Charlotte’s back in content bliss when Charlotte moved to the other side of her neck. There would be bruises the next day, and she would have to appear on Raw with Bayley to celebrate their retaining of the tag team championships; she would have to get some Really good concealer. But she didn’t care, and she simply brought her other hand up to rest on the back of Charlotte’s head. 

Sasha couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips when Charlotte bit down, hard, and her fingers tangled themselves in the blondes hair with no hesitation. Charlotte was making us much noise as Sasha was, and Sasha couldn’t believe how much she was affecting her without doing  _ anything,  _ really. Charlotte wanted her, there was no doubt. Sasha wanted her. Hands pulled at Charlotte’s hair to separate her from Sasha’s overstimulated skin; her fingers scrabbled to grab hold of the bottom of Charlotte’s tight tank top, and she yanked it up over her head harshly. Sasha groaned at the sight of Charlotte’s bare chest and she reached up to hover over them with greedy thoughts and greedy hands.

“Can I?” she asked, because she would never do anything to the blonde that she didn’t want to do. She just wanted to make Charlotte feel good. She would do anything to make Charlotte feel good. 

“You don’t have to ask, babe.” Charlotte’s voice was breathy and so clearly affected by Sasha’s words. Sasha looked up, into Charlotte’s glazed eyes, and kissed her, again, tenderly, gently. 

Her hands came to rest on Charlotte’s heaving chest and the blonde moaned at the slightest bit of contact with her hard nipples. Sasha flexed her hands, squeezing the mounds of flesh in her small hands. A louder moan left Charlotte and Sasha felt the arousal pooling in her lower abdomen growing steadily. Her hands clenched harder, moving the flesh under her touch in little circles. Charlotte’s breath left her in harsh exhalation, her hands coming to cover Sasha’s smaller ones, helping her bring greater pleasure to the blonde.

Sasha felt so aggressive, something she previously had never felt in situations like this. She wanted to eat Charlotte alive, and she knew the blonde wouldn’t stop her. Her arousal grew and she honest to god growled when she ripped her hands away from the heated skin and replaced them with her mouth. A curse left the blonde, then a whimper when Sasha sucked on her left nipple, her left hand coming up to pinch the other. A hand came up to rest on the back of her head softly, guiding her motions with practiced touches, silently instructing her to make Charlotte feel as good as possible. Sasha opened her mouth wider, and let her teeth graze the pink flesh. The hand in her hair tightened, pushing her head further into the blonde’s heaving chest. 

“Oh my god,” Charlotte whimpered breathlessly, “Sash..” The woman in question clenched her thighs together at her name being said like  _ that _ , and her mouth bit down on the blonde’s nipple without thought. “Shit, Sasha, oh my god,” she rambled helplessly. Sasha felt drunk with the power she had over the blonde, she just wanted to make her feel so good; she wanted to claim her, make her  _ hers. _

“Baby,” Sasha whispered absentmindedly, her mouth moving to the other nipple. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” Charlotte whined even louder, her breath coming faster and in even bursts. Sasha ripped herself away from the blonde’s chest with difficulty, and she pulled her shorts down, her legs shaking with anticipation when her lace underwear were revealed. Sasha ran her hands up Charlotte’s legs, feeling the freshly shaved, smooth, skin under her heated palms. A delicious throbbing was settling deep in her core, and she could feel the wetness coating her thighs everytime she shifted the slightest bit. Every moan from Charlotte, every shake, every twitch and whimper, made her excitement grow deeper with every passing moment. 

Charlotte had, surprisingly, seemed to submit to her almost completely, letting Sasha do whatever she wanted to her. She wasn’t complaining, not at all, but it was a shock all the same. In most situations, the blonde had to have all the power or it proved disastrous for everybody involved, but this was different. Sasha took, and Charlotte let her. 

“Please,” Charlotte whispered. “Please, Sash…” she repeated in the same breathless tone. Sasha couldn’t help the smirk that painted her features at the complete control she had over this usual dominant force. The blonde may be taller than her, bigger than her, could overpower her in seconds if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to. 

Sasha relented her torturous touches and kissed everywhere but where Charlotte really needed it most. She wasted no time, leaning up to kiss Charlotte’s panting mouth, and let her hand slide down to the blonde’s scantily clad core.

Sasha paused, and her fingers trembled suddenly when the weight of what she was doing settled finally.  _ Charlotte _ , she thought, and, for the first time that night, she hesitated. Charlotte could tell, and she paused her constant gripping of the sheets. When she released the white fabric, Sasha could see rips etched into them from the blonde’s nails. The sight almost threw any inhibitions she might have had out the window. Almost. 

Charlotte pulled back from her, and the confusion she felt was clear from one glance. Almost imperceptibly, from anybody that wasn’t Sasha, she could see the flash of hurt pass over the blonde’s face. She reached her hand up and brushed her hand over her cheek so gently. A sudden burst of emotion filled her, and a dull ache in her chest persisted without permission from Sasha. Three years ago, a year ago, this would have never happened. Charlotte would have never trusted anybody enough to let herself go like this in front of them, openly and without shame, let alone Sasha Banks, the woman she hurt for years, and vice versa. 

“Char,” Sasha started. Charlotte’s eyes flickered back and forth between her eyes, never seeming to decide on which one to settle on. “Are you sure this is what you want?” The question at the back of her mind remained unsaid.  _ Am I what you want?  _

“Yes,” the blonde said without hesitation, a desperate look in her eyes. A look that reminded Sasha of the hunger she had in her eyes when they had their matches those years ago. The everlasting desire for the title, for the satisfaction of the win, had translated to then; the desire for Sasha to make the blonde her center of attention. “I’m more than sure,” she continued, in a rush to assure Sasha. “This is what I want. Is this what you want?” Sasha inhaled deeply, and she couldn’t find it in her to say no, because it would be a lie. She wanted this so much it hurt.

Sasha could vaguely feel tears pricking at her eyes, and she blinked them away before Charlotte could possibly see. A nod, then a shaky smile, and Sasha connected their lips once again with a vigor that overpowered the blonde easily, just like before. 

Charlotte was trusting her, wholeheartedly, and Sasha was going to do everything in her power to make sure the blonde knew how much it meant to her.

The scar on her back was still there. This shouldn’t have been a surprise, scars like that don’t fade, but Sasha had this idea in her head that Charlotte was invulnerable. She can be beaten down and hated and she can hurt right back, but nothing affects her permanently. Sasha was wrong, she realized all at once. Charlotte was human, in startling clarity.

Sasha didn’t let up in her bruising kisses, teeth scraping and biting at the blonde’s already abused lips. But Charlotte didn’t seem to mind, and gave it right back. Her hand slid down Charlotte’s torso again, resting on her upper thigh, but there was no hesitation this time. She relished in the broken mess she had turned the blonde into, and maybe that should have been shameful. But they could never be sorted into a clear cut relationship that could be completely deemed “healthy.” They were too bull-headed for that. Too competitive by nature that even the bonding of two souls would never squash that feeling of  _ I’m Winning,  _ and how good it felt.

Her hand slid lower, until her fingers just barely found themselves under the fabric of Charlotte’s underwear. A breath hitched slow in the silent seconds between, and Sasha couldn’t really be sure which one of them made the sound.

As soon as her fingers met warm, slick flesh, her mind shut down and she became a primal thing solely obsessed with getting Charlotte off. Charlotte groaned a purely animalistic groan and her arms came around to wrap around the smaller frame against her. Their sitting position was getting uncomfortable, and Sasha’s wrist was cramping from the awkward angle, so the blonde took the initiative and freefalled backwards so her head hit the pillows beneath. Sasha fell with her, and the giggle that burst out of her would have made her feel ashamed if anybody else heard. But this was Charlotte, and Charlotte had already seen every side of her, one way or the other; the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Unsurprisingly, Charlotte was  _ loud. _ Sasha might have been concerned about their neighbors hearing—they most definitely had—if she had the capacity to think at that moment. Her hand slid lower, and the amount of  _ wet _ coating the blonde’s entrance was astounding; running down her leg and completely ruining her probably expensive underwear. It stroked her ego, making her more confident in her actions by the second.

Her mouth stayed busy, running along Charlotte’s ample breasts, her neck, her thighs, just under her belly button. She didn’t give the other woman a second of a break. She didn’t think she could take a break, if she wanted to. She had a mission, and she would be damned if she stopped before she was satisfied. 

Charlotte whined and whimpered and pleaded, and Sasha’s two fingers entered her without any hesitation. Her moan filled the room as tight, wet heat surrounded her digits. Like a woman possessed, her fingers went as deep as they could go, and she relished in the nails harshly scratching down her back, surely making her bleed.

Everything they had done and everything they were was leading up to this, this entwinement. This shared ecstasy running through their veins and forcing itself into their ventricles. Everything was this moment, here.

Charlotte’s breath came in heavy, broken pants, and her hips continued to lift off the bed everytime Sasha hit a particular spot inside of her. It was beautiful, it was intoxicating. Sasha couldn’t get enough. She wasn’t sure what was leaving her lips after a certain point, whispering into the blonde’s ear with fervor as her fingers pumped in and out. 

A third finger came up to rest at Charlotte’s entrance, and Sasha didn’t even have to ask before the blonde was nodding enthusiastically, unconsciously clenching around the purple haired womans fingers.

“Yes, yes, yes…” the blonde rambled helplessly, and Sasha knew she was already so close. It hadn’t even been a couple minutes, and her wetness was spilling out of her underwear and onto the bed, and she clenched hard around Sasha’s fingers with every thrust. 

Sasha kissed her neck, then bit into her shoulder just slightly, just to give her that extra push, and Charlotte was gone. 

A long, drawn out whine left her swollen lips, her lungs contracting around the sound as her hips stuttered in their constant movement. Sasha could barely move her fingers, the blonde was clenching so tightly it was almost bordering painful. Through it all, a constant stream of Sasha’s name left her mouth. Sasha couldn’t help the possessive feeling crawling through her entire self, and she certainly couldn’t help the wetness coating her thighs that rendered her completely useless. She had become a thing that only wanted Charlotte, and nothing else. 

The blonde came down, eventually, after a long minute, her legs shaking and her abdomen quivering with the aftershocks. Sasha kissed her, then, sweetly and almost lovingly, though she would never use the word to describe it herself. Charlotte complied, and the satisfied smile on her sweaty face made Sasha’s heart ache. She had given this to Sasha, this weakness, this vulnerability. It hurt her to see.

Charlotte trusted her. The thought had entered her mind dozens of times before in the past couple months, but this was the first time that she truly believed she trusted Charlotte as well. 

It was seamless, they way they switched their positions so Sasha was the one lying on the bed and Charlotte on top of her. No words had to be exchanged, then. Charlotte just knew, without a doubt, that Sasha would give this to her in a thousand different worlds; this would be no different. Her hand rested on Sasha’s cheek, for little more than a second, then it jumped from her face to the waistband of her underwear. Sasha bit her lip, and found it hard to look away from the sheer concentration and  _ want _ etched on the blonde’s face.

When Charlotte’s fingers found their way into their rightful place, Sasha couldn’t help the whimper that left her, and she certainly couldn’t help her nails scratching down whatever surface on Charlotte she could find.

Charlotte kissed her neck, and it was all over embarrassingly quickly. Sasha shuddered, and whimpered, and the overwhelming feeling coiling in her belly released, long and drawn out. Then she settled, and the fingers inside of her pulled out slowly. She watched helplessly with half lidded eyes as Charlotte raised her own fingers to her swollen mouth and took them in to her parted lips, tongue dancing around the coated skin. It was beautiful.

Sasha watched as Charlotte completely disregarded her clothes strewn about the hotel’s floor, then laid down right next to Sasha without a care in the world. Her arms opened without thought for the blonde to fit into, and as soon as Charlotte’s head found its resting place on her chest, she could feel the pull of sleep calling to her harshly.

“Thank you,” Charlotte had whispered, and then they slept.

\--

Losing the titles was her breaking point. It’s not that she detested another team having their chance, or couldn’t stand not holding a title. It’s just, with the titles ripped from her and Bayley’s hands, what did she really have to stay for? Wrestling had taken its toll on her. It took its toll on everybody, eventually, but the monotonous routine of waking up before the sun was out, then putting her body on the line for people who could never really appreciate everything she was doing; it was tiring. She was tired.

Wrestlemania was a five hour long affair, and Sasha could feel every second after her match tick by slowly in a muddled state of mind. Her hair was a mess, no doubt, and her ring gear was wrinkled and disheveled from the previous fight. Bayley was sat next to her, a comforting presence though Sasha didn’t need comforting. She needed rest, is what she needed; for longer than three hours a night. A nice, relaxing, preferably twelve hour long, Rest.

Sasha stayed for the main event, god knows why. She could have been in her hotel room, sleeping off the miserable pain that shot through her with every twitch of her body. She could have been catching a plane to  _ home _ , a three am flight that would take her to her paradise. But instead she stayed. She didn’t pretend to not know why she stayed. Charlotte, of course. She couldn’t care less about the match, and maybe she would have felt shameful to say that on any other day. But not that night; she had reached her breaking point, and she could say with clarity that  _ god _ , she really didn’t care about seeing Becky Lynch and Ronda Rousey finally hash out their differences with Charlotte there as a third wheel at best. Charlotte was the only part worth watching, anyway.

Sasha barely paid attention to the ending-- a roll up, Sasha rolled her eyes--but instead her attention was glued to the distraught blonde sitting upright with her back to the barricade. Sasha couldn’t convince herself the tears were fake if she wanted to. She wondered what that was like, still having the passion for the business after all those years. She could barely look at a wrestling ring without feeling sick. She guessed some people were just stronger than her; some people just found the will to keep going, no matter how tired they are. She wasn’t some people, and she knew, no matter what, she wasn’t going to be there for Raw the next day. 

It wasn’t like she was quitting, far from it. Even though she had been burned out she wasn’t giving up. Wrestling was still her dream, and she still found a certain enjoyment from it, but she just needed a goddamn  _ break _ . However long it would take for her to get back in the ring was as far from her mind as anything. She just wanted to go home. 

But there was something holding her back.

Bayley knew. She couldn’t keep anything from her best friend, and the other woman understood her without question. That’s how they worked, trusting each other without hesitance. Charlotte didn’t know, though. And that’s how  _ they _ worked, keeping things from each other came as easily to them as breathing. She knew, without a doubt, no matter what she would tell the blonde, she would be breaking Charlotte’s heart.

Sasha couldn’t delude herself into thinking that their relationship was completely devoid of feelings. Of course it wasn’t. Somehow, Charlotte had tore down every inhibition Sasha might have had, and Sasha found herself caring for the blonde, more than she ever had before. Even when they were friends, in NXT, the feelings had never been that strong. 

So, she knew she would break her heart. And maybe deep down, Sasha was always a coward when it came to the blonde, because she knew she would leave without uttering a single word to Charlotte. She couldn’t handle the betrayal that would be written all over the blondes face. Charlotte had trusted her, and Sasha would throw it right back in her face. 

The blonde came backstage eventually, makeup a mess on her sweaty face, but her eyes shone just as brightly as ever when she caught sight of Sasha in one of the makeup chairs, waiting up for her. 

“Hey,” Charlotte whispered breathlessly, and Sasha had a feeling it had nothing to do with the match she was in just minutes before. 

Sasha gave her a tight lipped smile, and stood with no further words between them. Bayley squeezed her hand, and she bent down just slightly to hug her best friend before turning fully to Charlotte.

“I’ll call you,” she threw out over her shoulder, and waited for the nod from the brunette before extending her hand to the blonde. 

“Ready to go?” she asked, and if Charlotte noted the raspy tone in her voice, she didn’t voice it. 

\--

A hotel, of course, just like all the other times. Sasha had the vague realization that her entire relationship with Charlotte was born out of hotel rooms and wrestling rings. But that fit them, because hotel rooms and wrestling rings made up their entire beings. That’s who they were, through and through. Sasha couldn’t imagine their feelings developing in any other setting. Charlotte and Sasha were, at their core, hotel rooms and wrestling rings. And Sasha found that she was okay with that. 

Charlotte dropped her hand when she unlocked the door leading to their single room, one bed. It wasn’t even a question when the woman in the front asked them. She kissed Sasha’s cheek, an impromptu show of affection that had Sasha blushing, she wasn’t scared to admit. Then the blonde grabbed a random outfit from her suitcase discarded on the floor and went to shower. 

Deja vu. Just like the last time, just like every time before it. Sasha didn’t bother changing out of her street clothes, and instead curled in on herself on the spacious king sized bed. She was so tired. 

Minutes may have passed, or hours, but eventually Charlotte left the pristine white of the bathroom, a fresh cloud of steam billowing in behind her. Her very own gray lady, Sasha mused to herself. 

She got dressed, completely aware of the pair of eyes watching her intently, but not caring in the slightest. Sasha watched, and Charlotte let her. 

Charlotte stood above her, a soft smile on her face as she regarded her warily. “You okay?” the blonde asked, and the worry on her face was as real as anything.

Sasha suddenly remembered that moment, at Survivor Series all those months ago, where she thought Charlotte was a lost cause and was more prone to evil than good. But how far from the truth was she? Charlotte was not evil. Charlotte was sometimes mean, and bull headed, and hurt people without thought, but she was far from evil. Charlotte was human, and Sasha couldn’t believe that she ever thought the woman in front of her was anything other than that. 

Charlotte sat on the bed with a grunt, the mattress sinking under her weight dutifully. In the dim light of the bathroom’s glow, Sasha could just barely make out that scar on her back, the one she inquired about that first time. Then she could make out the freshly forming bruises and scratches and wounds adorning her Charlotte’s body. If Charlotte looked over her, too, she suspected the blonde would find the same. 

The blonde fell back, and she winced slightly when she moved too far to the left to find a comfortable position. Sasha wasted no time, and curled into her softly and easily. Charlotte readily complied, and she lifted her arm to let the purple haired woman settle more into her. If their bodies weren’t so resolutely bonded together by skin and bone, Sasha would have let herself sink into Charlotte completely; make them one. But alas, she could only get as close as her body would let her, and she relished in the comfort and warmth coming from the blonde. She barely even noticed when the tears started to run down her face in rivulets. She barely even noticed the hiccup steadily growing in fervor in her throat, until Charlotte sat up just barely and held her face in her hands.

“What’s the matter, love?” she asked, her eyes searching every inch of Sasha’s face to find the source of her misery. She wouldn’t find it there, but in her bones, in her very soul. But Sasha would let her try. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

Sasha scrambled for something to say that wasn’t the truth. “I’m-,” she stumbled, “I just- I’m so tired, Char.” That wasn’t a lie, at least. 

Charlotte nodded, because she understood of course. “Is that it? Are you sure there’s nothing else?” she inquired, eyes boring down into Sasha’s, warm and inviting. And Sasha easily could have relented, and told her everything. She could have said goodbye, but instead she shook her head and tried to twist her mouth into something resembling a reassuring smile. Charlotte looked hesitant, but eventually acquiesced and laid back down with Sasha in her arms. 

It didn’t take long for Charlotte to fall asleep. She had a long night, and she had the scars to prove it. Somehow, Sasha wriggled herself out of the blonde’s hold without waking her, and she was glad her suitcase was already packed and ready for her. She pulled her hair up, then threw a hoodie on from her suitcase, eyes roaming around the room in search of anything she might have missed. She purposely let her eyes slide over the blonde in her bed without looking too closely. 

All too soon, she was ready to go. And she finally let herself look at Charlotte. Peaceful, and so beautiful even in sleep, that it hurt Sasha to look at her. It hurt to part from her, but she knew this was what she had to do, for her happiness. And Charlotte would get over it, eventually, and perhaps when she will come back Charlotte will yell and scream and lose her mind over how Sasha could just  _ leave _ her. And that wasn’t a maybe at all, Sasha knew the blonde would tear her apart upon her eventual return. She was looking forward to it. Anger was better than nothing at all, and Charlotte would have plenty of anger for her. 

Sasha crept silently to the side of the bed, and crouched down to stare at Charlotte’s sleeping face for longer than was surely necessary. She tried to commit every detail to her memory, but she knew time would erase every crease and pore and wrinkle etched into the blonde’s skin. She tried, though. She tried. 

Charlotte twitched in her sleep and Sasha had the terrifying thought that she might wake up and catch her in the act. Thankfully, the blonde’s eyes stayed closed, and her breathing evened out once again into a steady rythym. Sasha decided she had wasted enough time, and bent her head down to brush her lips across Charlotte’s reddened cheeks. She was warm, and Sasha was going to hold onto that for as long as she could.

Charlotte sniffed, then rolled over onto her side, her back facing Sasha’s still form. Even in the dark, Sasha traced the pink scar on her back over and over with her gaze. Then, she stood, and whispered into the quiet night,

“I’m sorry.” Charlotte couldn’t hear her of course, but it made her feel better all the same.

The door opened, then shut with a soft click. Sasha didn’t look back as she made her way to the hotel’s exit. 

In their room, Charlotte slept through it all. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated. there will be a part two but im not really sure When yet. but it will definitely be coming. thank u for reading and i hope u guys liked it. if you didn't, completely understandable. the song in the title is northern downpour by panic at the disco :)


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